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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23762110">there were sirens in the beat of your heart</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivyrobinson/pseuds/ivyrobinson'>ivyrobinson</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Anastasia (1997), Anastasia - Flaherty/Ahrens/McNally</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Ex Sex, F/F, Heist, Modern AU</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 17:41:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,171</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23762110</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivyrobinson/pseuds/ivyrobinson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>marfa spektor has spent the past four years undoing all the damage her ex has done to her, and yet can't bring herself to resist anastasia romanov when she comes back to her life with the promise of one last job.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Anya | Anastasia Romanov/Marfa (Anastasia Broadway), Dunya/Paulina (Anastasia Broadway)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. we were cursed</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Thank you for meeting with me,” Anya says, as she slides into the seat next to Marfa Spektor at the table. </p>
<p>Marfa smiles tightly in return, the rest of her expression is somewhere between neutral and disinterested. She’s always been a good actress, Anya remembers. “Turn down a meeting with Romanov Holdings? My bosses wouldn’t let me.” She says this part low so her associates can’t hear her. Her smile widens as her voice becomes audible to others. “You flatter me by asking for me specifically.” </p>
<p>No amount of acting can hide the hint of suspicion in her eyes. Marfa has never been never stupid nor a fool. </p>
<p>“Marfa was practically like family to me growing up,” Anya explains to Marfa’s associates. It’s not far from the truth. “And you know how important family is to my grandmother when it comes to her business.”  </p>
<p>Anya places her hand on Marfa’s leg below where her professional looking pencil skirt ends and squeezes. Her old girlfriend is dressed conservatively and professionally, as befitting her Vice President of Business Services status at the bank they’re currently meeting with to transfer over her grandmother's account. She looks very little like the wild teenager Anya had spent so much of her high school years and some of her college ones tangled with. But she absolutely knows that she’s still in there, along with the actual skills her grandmother requires that have very little to do with banking. </p>
<p>Marfa gives her a warning glance out of the corner of her eye but doesn’t acknowledge anything else, her eyes perusing the menu and a polite smile still fixed on her face. Anya presses her finger nail against the inside of her thigh until Marfa’s mouth opens ever so slightly.</p>
<p>“Of course,” an older man says. Anya hasn’t bothered to learn his name, as he’s inconsequential to her. “Leningrad Bank has been a family run corporation for four generations now. Family is everything.”</p>
<p>“Wonderful,” Anya says, relaxing her grip and strokes her thumb back and forth against the material of Marfa’s pantyhose. “Lily, why don’t you go over what exactly we are looking for from our financial institute?” She giggles sweetly, “I am just the face, I hardly have the head for details.” </p>
<p>Or so they liked to pretend to the world. </p>
<p>Marfa’s eyes narrow at her, because she knows that’s bullshit and also because Anya has moved her hand up further to discover her stockings are secured by garters. </p>
<p>“That’s not how I remember it,” Marfa says, loud enough for others to hear but it goes unnoticed. Everyone else’s attention is captivated by Lily as she speaks. </p>
<p>The waiter appears to take their order and Marfa crosses her legs, trapping Anya in their exploration upwards. Everyone around the table gives their order. </p>
<p>Anya extends her pinky, tracing the lace edge of Marfa’s panties. </p>
<p>“Pardon me,” Marfa says, her voice never wavering. She uncrosses her legs and pushes Anya’s hand away. She stands up. “I have to excuse myself to the restroom.” </p>
<p>She doesn’t bother to glance at Anya. </p>
<p>Anya waits a beat and then two, Lily giving her a subtle nod. She stands up, “That is not a bad idea, please excuse me as well.” </p>
<p>Before she’s out of earshot, she can hear the men make their jokes about women needing to go to the bathroom in groups. </p>
<p>If only they knew. </p>
<p>Anya slips the Maitre’d some cash as she passes, ensuring they are undisturbed. </p>
<p>She gives the bathroom door a four tap knock, the one they had used to use to signal it was the other, or one of their friends- Dunya and Polly. (A knock for each one of them.) </p>
<p>The door opens and she finds herself dragged into the room, pressed against the door and her mouth captured by Marfa’s in a bruising kiss. </p>
<p>She licks her lips when she pulls away, the faint taste of Marfa’s peach chapstick left there. </p>
<p>“What are you up to Anastasia Romanov?” Marfa asks, caressing Anya’s face with the back of her hand. </p>
<p>“There’s a job,” Anya admits, placing her hand on Marfa’s hips to pull her back closer. </p>
<p>Marfa turns her head so she can’t kiss her lips, so Anya lowers her mouth to the crook of her neck, her tongue darting out to lick the curve. </p>
<p>“I retired after you left me,” Marfa reminds her, grabbing her hair to pull her head back. “It doesn’t interest me anymore.” </p>
<p>“Please,” Anya says, “You’ve got to be so bored at that job of yours.” </p>
<p>“It’s stable,” Marfa tells her, not disputing that claim. She grabs Anya’s hands from her waist and pins them above her head against the wall. “I’ve never known stability before and I’ve found that I quite like it.” </p>
<p>Anya’s a very unstable person to be with. </p>
<p>“What a waste of potential,” Anya tells her, tilting her head to her side as Marfa trails down her neck, scraping her teeth along the skin. </p>
<p>“Funny,” Marfa says, pushing away from her. Anya feels fused to the door, her hands still suspended in the air. “I thought the same of us.” </p>
<p>The music in the bathroom rises a few decibels. Marfa lets out a laugh looking up at the speaker.</p>
<p>“Of course,” she looks over at Anya, “Did your grandmother send you here to fuck me into agreeing with whatever scheme you guys are cooking up?” </p>
<p>“The exact wording she used was whatever it takes,” Anya says, reaching out for Marfa, but she stays just out of her grasp. “This was just my choice of how to do that.” </p>
<p>“Oh, is anything your choice?” Marfa throws at her. Then, “Okay.” </p>
<p>“Okay?” Anya’s thrown off by how easily she seems to agree. “You’ll do it?” </p>
<p>“Not exactly,” Marfa says, reaching back and unzipping her skirt, setting it down on the vanity counter. “Okay, fuck me into agreeing to it.” </p>
<p>She pulls her shirt over her head, setting it on top of her skirt. Marfa grabs the back of her head pulling her closer, and says into her ear, “My standards are high so you’re going to have to be really fucking good to convince me, Nastya.” </p>
<p>There’s no bigger turn on for Anya than a challenge, and Marfa’s so fucking hot, she can’t think of herself as anything but a masochist for coming up with this strategy for getting Marfa to agree to work with her again. Hell, she might not even care about the plan at the moment, just wanting a taste of her former girlfriend again.</p>
<p>Marfa slides onto the vanity counter, and waits. Posture perfect. Still cool and composed. It reminds Anya of all her least favorite things about her ex. She places her hands on Marfa’s knees and leans in and kisses her on the mouth again, She scrapes her teeth along Marfa’s bottom lip, before moving to her chin, her neck, her collarbone. </p>
<p>“What a good little soldier you are,” Marfa taunts, only the slight bit of breathlessness escaping her voice. Arching her back, as Anya’s mouth covers her breast. “No wonder you’re Grandmama’s favorite. “</p>
<p>Anya’s nails dig into Marfa’s skin, and growls, “Shut up.”</p>
<p>The sad truth is she's weak for avoiding her these past few years. </p>
<p>“Hit a nerve, Princess?” Her hands are tangled in Anya’s hair, pushing them down the length of her stomach to the edge of her underwear.</p>
<p>Anya’s nails scratch along Marfa’s skin as she drags down her underwear. She finds the pink lines against her hips satisfying to look at, and she throws the underwear on the floor, always unable to fight against her own peak of temper. </p>
<p>Anya drags her finger along Marfa’s slit, dipping in and finding her wet and not as immune to her as she’s been pretending. “Seems like I’ve hit something entirely different for you.”</p>
<p>“It’s not you,” Marfa tells her. “It’s the pink salmon tile that really gets me going these days.” </p>
<p>She pulls Marfa’s legs so they’re resting on her shoulders, her mouth making a trail along the inside of her thigh. “God, you’ve gotten so boring.” </p>
<p>“At least I’m not still controlled like a twelve year old,” Marfa pants back, offering her hips up. </p>
<p>Anya presses her mouth against Marfa’s sex, and suddenly she’s fifteen again. Sleepovers turning into 2am, hands roaming each other, Marfa’s hips rocking against her mouth in a canopy covered bed. Marfa pinning her down, her leg in between Anya’s as she rocks against her, her mouth finding every sensitive inch of her body. </p>
<p>She looks up, meeting Marfa’s eyes, green so dark they’re almost black at the moment. For a moment, she’d like to redo the past four years of her life. Instead, she finds Marfa’s clit and sucks on it. </p>
<p>“Christ, Anyok,” Marfa pants, her fingers pulling harder on her hair as she pushes Anya’s head tighter against her. Momentarily forgetting the years and emotional distance between them. “That mouth of yours is so much trouble.” </p>
<p>The words are pure nostalgia. </p>
<p>Anya drags her mouth up along Marfa’s abdomen, sliding a finger in to replace her mouth, stroking fast to match the jerks of her hips. She crooks her finger, feeling Marfa tightening around her before her release. </p>
<p>Marfa only takes a breath to recover, before she moves Anya’s hand out of the way, jumping off the counter, pulling her shirt back on, and pulling up her skirt back on. </p>
<p>“Tell Marie I’ll be by tomorrow at 2,” Marfa tells her, fixing her hair in the mirror. She looks over at Anya, “I’ll understand if you need a moment before returning to the table.” </p>
<p>She almost wishes they could find someone as skilled as Marfa, so they can have them help instead. But Anya’s always been one to head running into danger.</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>Stepping into the foyer of the grand Romanov mansion is like stepping into the past for Marfa. She remembers the first time she stepped in here, age 13, Anya’s hand pressed against hers, dragging her into this huge house. Her parents were alive back then, but nowhere to be found. Her siblings scattered throughout the house, as Anya pulled her along throwing out unfamiliar words for room names. She remembers Anya collapsing into a chair, her cheerleading skirt floating up with the rush of air before settling along her. Marfa had tried not to look, but Anastasia Romanov is a very difficult person to not look at. Back then, and still now. </p>
<p>Sergei leads her into one of the more casual living rooms. It’s adorned in soft pinks and blues, giving it a homier feeling than the rest of the cold and unforgiving house. It's the sisters own personal shared space. She is seated on the loveseat. The same one her and Anya had sat on the summer after ninth grade, Anya curled along Marfa’s side. They were watching some movie, and Marfa doesn’t remember which one. At the time she had been hyper aware of every inch of Anya that was touching her. Anya had shifted and reached over, turning Marfa’s head towards her and brushed her lips along her. Whisper soft, and had Marfa leaning forward for more. </p>
<p>Anya never asks permission, she always reaches forward and takes what she wants, knowing no one can say no to her. Anya had brushed her nose along Marfa’s cheek, peppering her face with kisses. It was clumsily done in retrospect, but at the time it had felt like Anya was pulling electricity from her skin. </p>
<p>Marfa’s certain that every detail gone into her meeting today is intentional. </p>
<p>Anya walks in with her older sister, Tatiana. Tatiana is the undisputed beauty of the Romanov’s in photographs, but she lacks Anya’s charm and magnetic nature. </p>
<p>Marfa stands up to greet them. Anya takes her hands in hers, and they double air kiss on the cheek. Anya sits down on a chair, crossing her feet at the ankle like the good little girl she was raised to be. Tatiana and Marfa exchange a similar greeting and she takes the seat next to her sister. </p>
<p>“It’s so good to see you,” Anya says politely, as she hadn’t fucked her with her mouth the day before in the bathroom of a five star restaurant. </p>
<p>Marfa’s upset by her lack of willpower, and that she had lost such a good pair of underwear during Anya’s fit. The thing is the Romanovs held a lot of money and even more power, even with the damage of what Anya’s parents death had exposed of the source of both. </p>
<p>Exposing her connection to the Romanovs (or that she had a connection to the Romanovs, and not the exact connection that the youngest daughter had regularly given her orgasms between the ages of 15 to 20), had given her a boost at work. And being the person who was said to be responsible for bringing them would result in a rather large bonus for her. She was not in a position to turn down the meeting with the company. </p>
<p>As for the other thing…</p>
<p>Well. </p>
<p>“I thought your grandmother would be here,” Marfa remarks. She doesn’t even know if she’s directing it to Anya or Tatiana, but Tatiana rarely says anything. </p>
<p>“She’ll be joining us shortly,” Anya responds, as Sergei walks in with a platter of tea and pastries. “Along with the others.” </p>
<p>The others could be a variety of people in the Romanov network. </p>
<p>Marfa picks up her tea cup, “The others? Will your husband be joining us?” </p>
<p>“No,” Anya says, meeting her gaze as she reaches forward for a croissant. “He’s away on business.” </p>
<p>How convenient. Even when Anya doesn’t get what she exactly wants, she gets what she wants.</p>
<p>“Nonna wants them to start on children,” Tatiana says blandly, “But he’s away so much I don’t see the point.”</p>
<p>Similarly, but much more effectively, whatever Nonna wants, she gets. The only one that gets close to defying her is Anastasia, and even that is a hopeless case in some instances. She’ll probably be pregnant within a year. </p>
<p>“Tatiana’s husband stays home with their children,” Anya tells her. “Retired at the age of 35.” </p>
<p>Most people in the Romanovs circle didn’t have to work. And the sort of work most of the Romanovs really did wasn’t the sort that was on the books. Her teenage years with them had brought her up from petty thief and pickpocket to professional and white collar levels.</p>
<p>“There’s one more thing before Nonna arrives,” Anya says, because there’s always one more thing with her. “We are going to need Dunya and Paulina too.”</p>
<p>Marfa snorts, momentarily dropping the polite and posh game they are pretending at. “They hate you.” </p>
<p>“No,” Anya disagrees, because she doesn’t know how to process being disliked. “They’re loyal to you.” </p>
<p>She meets Anya’s gaze directly, “And who does my loyalty lie with?” </p>
<p>“Yourself,” she doesn’t miss a beat. “And since you’re doing this, you’re going to want to do it right which means you’ll want Dunya and Polly as well.” </p>
<p>She’s right and Marfa hates it, as much as she dreads the thought of bringing this up to them. And having to hear the lectures of the dangers of her entering the sphere of Anastasia Romanov again. </p>
<p>“I’ll think about it,” she settles. </p>
<p>Anya smirks because she knows when she’s won, but she doesn’t gloat. Then Marie enters, taking over the sales pitch. Even though Anya did the literal dirty work, as she always does.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. the best of times, the worst of crimes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Anya’s grandmother is a terrifying presence that most of the world shakes beneath her piercing glare, but Anya loves her with her entire heart. After Marfa has left, listening to what was expected from her, promising to bring Polly and Dunya in on it, and scheduling an appointment for Marie to transfer Romanov Holdings accounts over to Leningrad, Anya gets up, pulling her grandmother into a hug. </p>
<p>“So touchy feely,” Marie says, pretending to complain. “The worst mistake you ever made, Anastasia, was letting that one go.” </p>
<p>She means because of Marfa’s skills as a thief, and not in a romantic sense. It’s a rare moment of her grandmother being disappointed in her and it eats at her soul. </p>
<p>“She couldn’t get over the whole me getting married thing,” Anya tries to make it sound casual, as though it is not the source of the two worst fights she’s ever had with the two people she loves the most. </p>
<p>“His family would’ve destroyed ours if you hadn’t,” Marie is quick to remind her, in case a complaint was forthcoming. “Last I checked, you two don’t share a room, so you and her could’ve carried on however you liked.” </p>
<p>Marfa was more upset that Anya asks how high whenever her grandmother tells her to jump. And being bartered into a marriage to Gleb Vaganov by her grandmother and her agreeing to go along with it was the last straw for her. But her grandmother and her siblings were all she really had in the world, and as selfish and spoiled as she could be, she would jump in front of a bullet for any of them. Which is what she had been metaphorically doing for the past four years. </p>
<p>In return her grandmother made sure to keep Gleb busy, sending him off on long trips frequently, but his family and their associates had leverage over them that could destroy all that her family has been working for, and managed to salvage after her parents got murdered- so carelessly, according to her grandmother. </p>
<p>Anya still has nightmares about her parents death, being she was the one to find them back when she was 17. The screaming, scratching and clawing she can do in her sleep made her husband readily agree to separate bedrooms. He’s yet to take a mistress, no matter how many females she tries to sneak into his path. </p>
<p>“Apparently I’m not so easy to share,” she tells her grandmother sweetly. </p>
<p>Her grandmother arches an eyebrow at that, “When was the last time you had intercourse with your husband?” </p>
<p>“Last night,” Anya tells her. She was still so wound up after her lunch with Marfa, so turned on with no return given that when he had come up and kissed her neck, complaining he wouldn’t see her for the next five weeks she had leaned into it, allowing him to lead her to his bed. </p>
<p>Having two unsatisfying sexual experiences in a day is a record she had never wanted to set. Or repeat. </p>
<p>“Good, that’ll buy you some time,” she tells Anya. “With any luck, we will pull this off, destroy the Vaganovs and all of us will be free of this unpleasantness. Especially you.”</p>
<p>It’s not the first time her family has traded their sexual or romantic favors in exchange to protest the family. Olga had married the Russian Ambassador, an older man twenty years her senior. Tatiana’s first boyfriend had been the son of a Senator, who she had lucked out in falling in love with and had rushed to marry him when she turned 18, before their grandmother could deem him no longer useful. Maria was currently the mistress of a billionaire and Alexei took out the daughter of a high tech company’s CEO whenever he came home from college. </p>
<p>Marie’s hold on them is tight, Anya’s very aware of it. But her grandmother frequently reminds them she wasn’t so strict with her son and he had ended up with their mother, and that’s what had gotten them both killed in the end. </p>
<p>“And if we don’t pull it off?” Anya asks, though she knows the answer. </p>
<p>Marie pats her cheek, “Have his child, Anastasie. They won’t sell out their own kind.”  </p>
<p>Her grandmother presses a kiss to her forehead, before leaving the room, leaving behind the soft scent of orange blossoms. </p>
<p>-</p>
<p>“Absolutely not,” Paulina grits out before Marfa can finish her proposition. </p>
<p>She’s disappointed by her friends’ not wanting to help out, but she’s not surprised. While they had been friends with Anya, they had never been sucked into the hurricane that is her life with her. Instead they had picked up the debris she had made of Marfa four years earlier, and had dropped Anya from their lives without looking back. Or Paulina has, Dunya is a bit softer and forgives easier. </p>
<p>“It was fun and thrilling when we were teenagers and didn’t have anything to lose,” Polly continues on. “But we are adults now. You just got your life together.” </p>
<p>And Marfa had never been so bored, Anya had been dead right about that. As much as she claimed to not want to be sucked back into the Romanov’s dealings, especially with anything regarding the youngest daughter, the thrill of the forbidden, of accomplishing something she shouldn’t be able to do and getting away from it is too great of a pull for her to ignore. </p>
<p>And the thought of Anya with her head bent over her, strawberry curls falling across Marfa’s legs while her tongue flicks out along her is a compelling enough memory for her to throw the caution she has developed into the wind. </p>
<p>She’s always been stupid for Anya, something Anya knows but at least Marfa is going into this with knowledge of exactly what this is. One last job, advancement at her real job, and cleansing Anastasia Romanov from her system. </p>
<p>“You do have something to lose,” Marfa points out, never above being cutthroat, even with her closest friends. “Think of what the pay out could do for you two. Pay off student loans, pay for a wedding, a honeymoon, a house and insemination.” </p>
<p>Dunya looks stricken, “And you could go to law school.” </p>
<p>“Yeah so I can defend her dumb ass when this turns out to not be one last time and she keeps repeating the same mistakes she’s made since she was 15,” Polly bites out. </p>
<p>“Think of it as a way to prevent me from making dumb decisions,” Marfa attempts. </p>
<p>She knows the true path to get Polly to agree is through Dunya, but to do that obviously will just make Polly shut down any possibility quickly. </p>
<p>Her best friend looks unmoved folding her arms, “How long was it after first greeting Anya at lunch that you fucked her?” </p>
<p>Technically, she can honestly say, “I have not fucked Anastasia in four years.” </p>
<p>“Don’t try to bullshit me,” she says, because Polly is smarter than any of them and can read between lines. </p>
<p>Marfa sighs, “She fucked me about fifteen minutes later in the bathroom. It was part of Grandmama’s business pitch.” </p>
<p>“You’re hopeless,” Polly tells her, and then softens when she turns to her fiancée, “Dun, this is our future the call is up to you.”</p>
<p>Dunya is the most romantic out of all of them, and images of Pinterest perfect weddings have been clouding her eyes ever since Marfa brought it up. “I want us to have it all. Let’s do this.” </p>
<p>That’s the real power the Romanovs have over all three of them. They had all grown up poor and with little to no families. This could give them and their future everything they never had. </p>
<p>Polly nods, unsurprised by Dunya’s choice. She turns back to Marfa, placing her hand on her shoulder. “Fine. But, promise me, before the next time you have to see Nastya, fuck someone. Anyone. If we are going to pull this off, we need you at your sharpest.” </p>
<p>Marfa just hugs her in return, causing Paulina to grumble, “Okay, well I mean, don’t fuck me.”</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>“So Marie is really finally going after the egg,” Lily Malevsky-Malkevitch sounds bored as she says this over her tea cup, but there’s a sharp look in her eyes as she says it. “Interesting.” </p>
<p>The egg, of course, being one of the Fábrege eggs Anya’s mother loved to give to her fathers. Several were stolen, some recovered. This one was said to be used for her parents to pass secret messages along. The message in there, according to her grandmother, would be something to take the Vaganovs down which is why they’ve been using it for years to be in a deal with the Romanovs through Gleb and Anya’s marriage. </p>
<p>Anya has stopped by, now that Marfa, Paulina and Dunya are secured for the mission. To let her know their numbers were set. </p>
<p>“You knew she was planning on it,” Anya points out, taking a sip of her own tea. “You helped with the whole bank thing.” </p>
<p>“She’s been saying that for years,” Lily dismisses. “And changing institutions was necessary, I just figured I could get you laid in the process.” </p>
<p>Anya snorts, and looks over as Lily’s wife, Sophie, walks into the room. Sophie is a rich heiress who is some distant relative of Anya and her family. She hadn’t wanted anything to do with the family’s business but then had met Lily and fallen deeply in love. So now she merely tolerates meetings held at their house. </p>
<p>“Well thanks,” Anya says with a roll of her eyes. </p>
<p>In a moment of sincerity, Lily’s eyes grow warm towards her and pats her hand. “I know what it’s like to be married to an undesirable man I want nothing to do with.” </p>
<p>So she did. </p>
<p>“This should fix that,” she says breezily. “Now that we have the right people.” </p>
<p>“Let’s hope,” Lily agrees, taking a sip and seeming to measure her words. “But take care, Nastya. You flirt with danger when you get close to Marfa.” </p>
<p>“I’m in control of it,” Anya promises, even though anything to do with Marfa has never made her feel less in control in her life. “I promise.” </p>
<p>“Let the girl be in love,” Sophie chides her wife, “Lord knows Marie won’t ever let her.” </p>
<p>Anya opens her mouth to defend her grandmother but a look from Sophie quiets her. </p>
<p>“Business first, pleasure second, and everything else comes after,” Anya says, emptying her tea cup and standing up to leave. </p>
<p>Lily sounds sad when she says, “Spoken just like your grandmother.” </p>
<p>Anya doesn’t take the time to reflect on that before leaving.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. think about the place where you first met me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Marfa wishes she could say she’s surprised to find out the room situation when they all meet up at the hotel for the mission. (It’s tiring enough to ignore her history with Anya from a distance, it’s downright exhausting to have to forget the emotions when near her.)</p>
<p>Polly and Dunya, Marie and Olga, Tatiana and Maria, Sophie and Lily, which leaves her with Anya. Even if Marie hadn’t come to oversee everything, the master controller that she was, or if Sophie didn’t come for moral support of her wife and love of luxurious hotel rooms, she knows she’d still end up with the same roommate. </p>
<p>Anya looks far too satisfied by the arrangement to not have had a hand in it. </p>
<p>She just pushes past her, to take a shower. As though she could cleanse herself of her past and feelings with Anya with a thirty minute experience of water falling over her. </p>
<p>Marfa comes out of the bathroom to find Anya on the bed, sitting up against the headboard, in a short blue nightgown, absently twirling a lock of her strawberry blonde around her finger as she looks bored on the phone. </p>
<p>Obviously whatever plans of attack she had planned against Marfa for when she came out of the shower have been waylaid by her husband boring her to death. </p>
<p>“I know darling,” she’s saying into the phone, her tone displaying a compassion lacking on her face. “But this trip is so important to Nonna, and the more of these you do the quicker we can get you settled back home.”  </p>
<p>Anya meets her eyes and rolls them, but Marfa has no sympathy for the path she’s chosen. </p>
<p>“I miss you too,” Anya says, curling and uncurling her hair with her index finger. The diamond on her ring finger is both impressive and ugly. “With my sisters.” </p>
<p>Marfa can’t stand how easily she lies and how convincing they can sound. It’s woven into the fabric of Anya’s DNA. She wants to break down the facade bit by bit. </p>
<p>She climbs on the foot of the bed, sitting on her knees. </p>
<p>“No, the doctor’s is tomorrow,” Anya continues, releasing her hair as she stares at Marfa. Her gaze is a challenge, because Anya has always lacked a sense of self preservation. Nine times out of ten she will choose the daredevil route. “I’ll talk to him about switching, but I think a low sex drive is just a common side effect of the fertility drugs.” </p>
<p>Marfa presses her mouth on the spot where Anya’s heart beats, she can practically taste the quickened tempo. </p>
<p>Anya’s legs fall open, to cradle Marfa’s body as her lips move along her collarbone. The low sex drive as much of a falsehood as the alleged fertility drugs she’s taking. </p>
<p>“I went into another room,” she says into the phone, the tiniest waver in her voice. “The children were being exhausting.” </p>
<p>Marfa makes her way up the slope of Anya’s neck, her senses filled with the scent of strawberry shampoo. </p>
<p>“I’m tired, I should g—“ her voice trails off as she is interrupted by Gleb. </p>
<p>Marfa can’t hear what he’s saying, just enough that he’s speaking.</p>
<p>She reaches Anya’s ear that’s not occupied by the phone, and whispers, “If you hang up the phone, I’ll stop dead whatever I’m doing.” </p>
<p>Anya gulps, “I’m sorry, Tania was asking me a question, what was that?” </p>
<p>Marfa tugs on the strap of Anya’s nightgown, making it fall down her shoulder. She kisses the newly exposed skin, spying Anya biting down on her lip. It’s not enough yet to make her break, but she wants to savor the victory when it (she) comes. </p>
<p>She pulls away slightly, surveying her next move. She needs to make every inch of Anya’s desire count. </p>
<p>Marfa places her hands spread on Anya’s thighs, her fingers curling in, indenting the soft skin, leaving behind half moon crescent scars. She watches the rapid rise and fall of Anya’s chest as she fights to let out short pants. Marfa is struck by how fucking gorgeous Anya actually is, and how much she resents her for it. She applies pressure, spreading her legs further apart, the short skirt of her nightgown riding up, exposing her flesh. </p>
<p>Anya lifts her hips up a little bit off the bed, an offering that Marfa ignores. Instead she works her mouth against her hip bone, trailing down her inner thigh, further away from where Anya wants her to go. </p>
<p>Anya clumsily turns a whimper into a “mmhmm” sound of agreement. </p>
<p>Marfa muffles her laugh against Anya’s leg. She can feel Anya’s glare at her.  She lifts her head up, climbing up her body. </p>
<p>“Hold on, someone’s knocking on the door,” Anya says as Marfa’s mouth draws close to hers, pressing the mute button and lowering the phone. </p>
<p>Her mouth is open and waiting when Marfa’s covers hers. She’s sweet and familiar, and Marfa is all too aware this is a game she’ll never win when it comes to Anya. </p>
<p>She pulls away, tugging the nightgown up off of Anya. </p>
<p>“Okay,” she gives in, her fate long decided almost ten years before. Anya’s hands are under her shirt. “Hang up the phone.”  </p>
<p>Anya’s slow to respond, as though she forgot about the phone all together. She unmutes and puts it back to her ear. “Sorry that was…” </p>
<p>Marfa’s impatient, dragging her mouth down every inch of now exposed skin. </p>
<p>“Good night,” Anya is saying, her voice strained. She tilts her hips up again. “You too.” </p>
<p>The phone falls to the floor with a soft thud as Marfa’s tongue slides inside her. She can worry about what this all means later. </p>
<p>-</p>
<p>Anya is loathed to wake up. She is wrapped around Marfa’s body and the blankets are warm and it’s a nice dream she doesn’t want to wake up from. She tilts her face, kissing along Marfa’s jaw. Marfa turns her head, and she braces herself for the speech she’s sure is all prepared, but Marfa just kisses her instead. </p>
<p>“Mornin,” Marfa says, her eyes still closed. </p>
<p>“Not yet,” Anya protests, though the sun outside says otherwise. “Are we done pretending?” </p>
<p>Done pretending as though this isn’t an inevitability when they’re near the other. </p>
<p>“I have nothing to pretend,” Marfa tells her, her handle idly working it’s way through Anya’s hair. “I won’t fight this while we’re on this mission, though. It’s too distracting.” </p>
<p>Anya smiles against the crook of Marfa’s neck. “I’m distracting?”</p>
<p>Marfa pushes her away halfheartedly, “It’s your number one skill.” Then corrects before a protest can be made, “Well one of them.”</p>
<p>“If this all goes according to plan,” Anya tells her. “I’ll be able to divorce Gleb.” </p>
<p>The look Marfa gives her is on the side of pity, and Anya doesn’t care for it. “You should divorce him anyway.”</p>
<p>She knows that but not as well as she knows she has to protect her family as much as possible above all else. “I know.” </p>
<p>“And,” Marfa continues on, the palm of her hand pressed against her cheek. “If it’s not him, it’s just going to be whoever your grandmother wants next.” </p>
<p>Anya wants to protest. Instead she shifts to hover over Marfa, kissing her. “I want you.” </p>
<p>“I know,” her hand slides down Anya’s spine, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. “Us wanting each other has never been the issue.”</p>
<p>There’s no answer for this right at this moment. So she just nuzzles her nose against Marfa’s. “Let me take care of you.” </p>
<p>Marfa stretches underneath her, “I think you’ve already done that several times over last night.” </p>
<p>“Not like that,” Anya says, sitting up and pulling Marfa with her. She smooths out the tangles of Marfa’s auburn hair with her fingers. “Get in the shower, we’ve got an important day ahead of us.” </p>
<p>They kiss again, Anya finally getting up and tugging Marfa towards the bathroom. Marfa wraps her arms loosely around Anya’s waist, letting her lead. </p>
<p>Well, okay maybe there’s enough time for her to take care of her in both ways.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. shades of grey in candlelight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I’ve missed this,” Dunya sighs, tapping away at a computer and vocalizing Polly’s exact fear when she agreed to this. </p><p>But the money was tempting, especially with undergrad and law school loans that would eat at her salary once she is able to get hired as a lawyer. </p><p>She’s selling out her soul right now by doing this, and she thinks the only good thing is that it’ll keep her from selling out her soul when it comes to her career. </p><p>Then she glanced at Dunya and knew she’d do a lot worse for her if she ever asked. Thankfully Dunya is not Anastasia Romanov so usually her asks are more trips to the store variety and not lets do several felonies in one go. </p><p>“You work on security systems every day,” Polly points out, moving away from her own computer to crawl over behind where Dunya is and rests her chin on her shoulder. “Just in helping build up security systems and not tear them down.” </p><p>“Don’t distract me,” Dunya warns as Polly places a kiss below her ear. “You already know how turned on I get from these stupid heists.” </p><p>Polly remembered very fondly from the time they were teenagers and would fall into a tangle together when the job was over and the money transferred over to an account for them.  </p><p>It probably is dangerous to have a fiancée who gets turned on doing crime when Polly was going to be a lawyer. Or convenient for Dunya should she go back down that road. </p><p>“I know, it’s one of the reasons I can’t wait for this entire mess to be over,” she says, but pulls away, going back to check something on her computer. “That and if we are caught I can probably get disbarred before I even take it.” </p><p>“You didn’t use to worry so much,” Dunya sighs. </p><p>Polly reaches over and takes her hand and squeezes it, “I didn’t use to have something so precious to lose.”</p><p>Dunya lifts her hand up and kisses it. “I know you want me to think you’re being sweet and mean me but I know you really mean your future as a lawyer.”</p><p>“I can mean both,” Polly protests, squinting at something on her computer screen. </p><p>Dunya glances over, “What is it?”</p><p>“Not surprisingly,” Polly points to a figure on the screen. “Marie showed up after all.” </p><p>“She’d never let anything be out of her control for a moment,” Dunya clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “I’ll let the others know.” </p><p>“Just tell Marfa,” Polly says. “The rest of them should already know Marie well enough to feel the chill of her presence in the air.”</p><p>Dunya nods and pulls out the burner phone they were given to send out the message to Marfa’s. </p><p>Polly can’t wait for this to be all over. </p><p>-</p><p>Anya doesn’t like to think about her parents too much. Her mind automatically blurs them out of her memory when she thinks back to moments of her childhood. Her sisters and brother crystal clear, her parents muffled and blurry in the background. </p><p>It hurts to think of them, hurts to think of their betrayal and how she’s been working to help heal the wound they caused their family ever since. Hurts to think of the days surrounding their death, hazy and distant. </p><p>It’s never as complicated or dramatic to find the object in these things as the movies and tv shows made them believe. They are well prepared, even more well staffed and no one in charge knows of their plans. </p><p>It’s the work that goes in beforehand where all the effort goes in. </p><p>And Anya has the easiest job of it all. Marfa had given her the keys and codes and blueprints she needed, whispering them in her ear, the ability to remember numbers and codes is much better and sharper than her own personal memories. Marfa had pressed a kiss against her lips and wished her good luck. </p><p>She hasn’t felt this close to freedom since the first time she had leaned over and kissed Marfa, unlocking an emotional prison she hadn’t even realized she had been in. And now she’s so close to being free from this marriage she was sold into. </p><p>She has the egg in hand, and just needs to leave with it but there’s a pull in it. A pull for her to defy orders and open it herself. To see the reason she’s been caged these past four years. </p><p>And so Anya is close to hyperventilating when she opens up the egg. It’s as beautiful as she remembers, designed after her mother’s wedding gown, little details interwoven to symbolize their daughters and son. It looks delicate and overwhelms her of memories of her mother, her hands shake and she almost drops it. Whatever is in here has dictated at least the past four years of her life. </p><p>She’s never defied her grandmother before. In little ways that don’t amount to much- wearing an outfit she doesn’t approve of, stealing from her liquor cabinet, but in the big ways she obeyed. Marfa’s taunt from a few weeks ago rings in her ear What a good little soldier you are. Anya looks at the papers inside. They’re in Cyrillic and it takes a few extra moments for her brain to adjust. </p><p>And when it does, a wave of nausea hits her like a bullet train, and the egg almost does slip from her grip. </p><p>“I thought my orders were that it was to be delivered directly to me and no one was to see what was inside,” comes her grandmother’s voice from the doorway. </p><p>Marie doesn’t even look angry, just disappointed in her. </p><p>Anya feels like she’s looking at a stranger. </p><p>She tilts her chin up, though she feels tremors working their way through her body, “I’m not no one.” </p><p>“You’re not,” Marie agrees. She walks towards Anya, and it’s all Anya can do to not step back. </p><p>“You had my parents killed,” her voice breaks when saying this. </p><p>“Don’t act so surprised, Nastya,” Marie says coldly. “You’ve known this all along.” </p><p>This time she does step back, her nightmares coming into the day and clawing at her memory. “What?”</p><p>Her grandmother ignores this, “It was only supposed to be your mother, then your father had to be right there with her at that moment.” </p><p>She thinks of the memory she does have left of that night, her parents covered in blood. Anya wants to throw up. </p><p>“Don’t get sick,” her grandmother reprimands her. “You’re made of stronger stuff than that.”</p><p>“They wanted to leave,” Anya says, thinking over what she had just left. Her parents had a plan to escape her grandmother and to start a new life for all of them. </p><p>“She wanted to leave,” Marie sneers. “Your father was so foolishly in love with her and it destroyed the man I raised. You take after him so much, you used to worry me when you were younger. Especially with that girl, but…” her grandmother softens, and touches her hand to Anya’s cheek. Such a warm and familiar gesture, and the comfort it brings is not at war with the ugly feelings swirling in her. “You are such a good girl, you did exactly as you were told.” </p><p>“Was Gleb just a test you needed me to pass?” It was one thing to lose four years of her life in a misguided attempt to save her family. It was another to have to endure a marriage to a man she hated to prove how loyal she was to her grandmother. </p><p>“The Vaganovs are a nuisance,” Marie tells her. Meaning they were never the real threat and this was all about protecting Marie’s secrets. “And he’s always been so obsessed with you, ever since you were young, it is just convenient that it proved that I was right in saving you.”</p><p>“Saving me?” She doesn’t even know if she wants to know at this point but the words slip out before Anya can stop them. </p><p>Marie kisses her forehead before releasing her. The scent of orange blossoms surround Anya, memories now at war with facts. </p><p>“You were with your parents when it happened,” Marie explains. “You weren’t supposed to be home, but you were.” Anya can’t even remember why she had been home that day. “Once I found out your father was there, I rushed over to save him. When I got there I could only pull one of you out of harm's way and I choose you.” </p><p>She saved her but she was also responsible for the reason she was in harm's way to begin with. Anya was finding it difficult to summon up gratitude for her grandmother. </p><p>Anya looks at the egg, knowing the next few moments would determine so much. She can either destroy the Vaganovs or destroy her Grandmother. She knows what she’s been trained to do. She remembers all the therapists she went to after her parents death, the hypnotist Marie sent her to. The guise of getting her help when all she was doing was hiring people to manipulate Anya’s reality. </p><p>She thinks of the nightmares she’s had over the past seven years, the monster inside of her that seemed to try to claw their way out when night came. Her memories are the monster. </p><p>She makes a choice. It’s the only choice to make. She hands the egg over to her grandmother. She chooses to destroy the Vaganovs. </p><p>“I loved my parents, but I don’t want to live through their mistakes,” Anya tells Marie. “Thank you for saving me, Nonna.” </p><p>“Oh my Anastasia,” Marie embraces her in a tight hug, initiating it for the first time in forever. She pressed her lips against her temple. “I knew I was right to. Let’s keep this another one of our little secrets.” </p><p>Anya nods as her grandmother pulls away. They had so many of those now. </p><p>She smiles at Marie, “Of course.”</p><p>She’s never been patient, but now she knows she has to learn to be.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. nothing good starts in a getaway car</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Marfa hasn’t heard from Anya in the two weeks since they’ve gotten her parents’ egg back to her grandmother. However, she isn’t surprised when there’s a knock on the door early one morning, and she opens it to see Anya standing there, expensive champagne bottle in hand. </p><p>“It’s a little late to celebrate our success,” Marfa says pointedly, but she steps back to allow Anya into her house. The past two months have taught her she has little resistance to Anya’s presence in her life. </p><p>“I’m here to celebrate something better,” Anya announces with a twirl, pulling Marfa’s mouth to hers when she comes to a stop. </p><p>Marfa is charmed despite herself, “And what is that?” </p><p>Anya pulls out two flutes from her bag, dropping the bag afterwards, popping open the bottle and filling them, “I’m supposed to meet with Nonna later about it, but you were the first person I wanted to tell and the only person I really want to celebrate with.” </p><p>Intrigued, Marfa accepts the flute, “And?” </p><p>“My marriage has been annulled,” she announces, tapping the glass against hers. “Vaganov no longer.” </p><p>Marfa downs her champagne in one gulp, and sets it down so she can sit on her sofa, “You never took his last name.” </p><p>It wouldn’t fit with Marie’s Romanov brand. </p><p>“Anya Vaganov sounds like a yeast infection prescription,” Anya shudders, then drinks her champagne. There’s something a bit off about her energy this morning. </p><p>“Was the marriage really terrible?” Marfa asks. She’s never asked before, never wanting to know the details of her lover’s marriage. </p><p>For a moment Anya’s mask slips and looks vulnerable and a bit shaken up, Marfa reaches out for her hand but she pulls away. “I don’t want to talk about my marriage.” She climbs onto Marfa’s lap, straddling it. Kissing her mouth, her hands buried in her hair. “Especially now when the law has said it never officially happened.”</p><p>She wonders what sort of threads Marie’s lawyers had to pull to undo the legality of Anya and Gleb’s marriage. </p><p>“It did happen though,” Marfa points out, and she can feel Anya’s mouth turn into a pout against her skin. She takes her by the shoulders to gently push her away, “An annulment can’t erase the past four years.” </p><p>“I know,” Anya says softly, more serious than she’s seen her be in years. Her mouth is on hers again, and Marfa opens below hers, letting her in. “But I want to start making it up to you.” </p><p>“I don’t know,” Marfa teases, her hands on Anya’s waist, pulling her closer. “I think the appeal is waning now that I’m not your mistress.” </p><p>Anya reaches behind her, unzipping her own dress, letting it pool down to where her body met Marfa’s, “Too bad.” She lifts up on her knees and her dress slips more, her bare skin a breath away from Marfa’s mouth now. “There’s no one else but you for me now.”</p><p>It’s all she’s ever wanted to hear from Anya since they were in middle school, and she didn’t even know the words to form what she actually wanted from her. </p><p>Marfa shifts on the sofa, bringing Anya with her and pinning her below her. </p><p>She supposes she can allow Anya to have this celebration the way she wants it. </p><p>-</p><p>Anya has a second champagne bottle and two more flutes she brings with her to her grandmother’s house. The freedom she felt at Marfa’s house slipping away from her as Sergei greets her in the foyer. She’ll find it again soon. </p><p>She knew it would be difficult to leave Marfa’s when she showed up there. It’d be easier had she waited until after this meeting with her grandmother for them to celebrate all afternoon and evening long, should they choose. But she wanted Marfa to be the first person she told when her marriage to Gleb was over. </p><p>She feels more uncomfortable with the entire thing now that it’s behind her than she ever did when she was in it. Anya’s not certain if it’s because she knows the truth of her family, or she can see how fucked up it is in hindsight. Maybe both. </p><p>Anya’s cursed with fucked up things for the rest of her life. This meeting with Marie is one of them. </p><p>She takes out the flute and the champagne, pouring them equally. She takes out a small packet her grandmother gave to her for emergencies when she was doing something particularly sensitive or dangerous. She pours a small amount of the packet into one of the flutes and tucks it back into her purse and swirls the glass so the light powder disappears into it. </p><p>She turns and walks into the room where her grandmother is waiting for her with a smile. “The lawyer called this morning, my marriage is officially annulled.” </p><p>Her grandmother smiles back at her, happy for the end of the disaster she herself was responsible for. “Darling that’s wonderful news.” She accepts the flute of champagne from her. “Truly something to celebrate.”</p><p>Then she takes the flute and dumps the contents into the nearest plant by her.  </p><p>Anya gives a pained smile as Marie takes her glass from her and sips. “Cheers?”</p><p>“I love you, but I didn’t get this far by having trust,” Marie explains, as though Anya was offended by her display. </p><p>“Whatever makes you feel safest, Nonna,” she demurs, taking her hand in hers. Her heart is beating a thousand beats per second, or so it feels like. </p><p>“Such a practical girl,” Marie tells her. “Now that Gleb is out of the way, it’s time you moved on with your life.”</p><p>She already had, her head spent the morning between Marfa’s thighs. “Did you have someone in mind?” </p><p>“The Danish Ambassador's niece is to your taste,” Marie explains, taking another sip from Anya’s glass. “They have some documents from our ancestors that would be invaluable to us.” She smiles warmly. “And give you a bit of fun.” </p><p>She’s had fun with the ambassador’s niece before, and had this been before the egg, before her reconnection with Marfa, before the revelation, she’d have been thrilled with the arrangement. </p><p>“You’re too kind,” she tells her. </p><p>Her grandmother frowns, rubbing above her chest with her free hand. </p><p>Anya leans forward, “Are you okay, Nonna?” </p><p>Marie looks at her, an ugly look of betrayal across her face. “What have you done, Anastasia?”</p><p>“What I had to,” she says, squeezing her hand. “Exactly as you taught me.”  </p><p>Her grandmother is gasping, choking. </p><p>Anya jumps up, distraught, “Sergei! Come quick, something is wrong with Nonna.”  </p><p>Marie’s eyes are wide and accusing and she’s fighting to speak, and Anya looks away as her eyes roll back in her head. </p><p>Sergei arrives, immediately running to Marie. Anya drops her grandmother’s hand, sits in her chair and sobs. Grieving so many different things at once. </p><p>She barely hears Sergei say her grandmother is gone and him calling 911. </p><p>-</p><p>The first feeling Marfa feels when she hears of Marie’s death is relief. The old woman was such a manipulator of her grandchildren’s lives, what she’s done to her and Anya through the years… she can only imagine the stuff she doesn’t know about. The other is bitter disappointment that she’ll never know the feeling of Anya choosing her, of choosing them, over her grandmother. </p><p>She is greeted by a solem Sergei when she knocks on the door. Lily is the first one she runs into, standing as Sophie is typing at the computer. She walks over and kisses Marfa on both cheeks before telling her Anya’s up in her room and has been for the past several days. </p><p>Anya answers the door in yoga pants and an old T-shirt of the cheerleading squad they had been on together. Make up free and her hair in a sloppy ponytail. </p><p>“Baby,” Marfa murmurs and gathers her into her arms. She’s never been a hugger, but Anya is and the moment seems to call for it. </p><p>But Anya just pulls out of her embrace and goes to sulk on her unmade bed. “You shouldn’t be here.” </p><p>“You’re upset,” Marfa tries not to get offended. Anya can run hot and cold, but never so drastic of a change from her straddling on the couch to what she’s doing now. She just lost her grandmother. </p><p>She sits next to her on the bed, reaching over to tuck an escaped strand behind Anya’s ear. Anya lays down, curled up on her side. </p><p>Marfa lays down beside her, curling against her back, her arm secured around her waist. Anya doesn’t fight it. As a means of distraction, “Did you ever find out what was in your mother’s egg?” </p><p>“What?” Anya asks. </p><p>“The egg we all worked for,” Marfa says, stroking her thumb across the band of skin exposed between her shirt and waistband. “I know it went straight to Marie but did she ever tell you what was in it?” </p><p>“Yeah,” Anya says, her reply flat. Then she’s quiet for a few moments before saying, “You shouldn’t love me.” </p><p>It’s an uncharacteristic thing for Anya to say. Her confidence may be composed of insecurity and overcompensation. But she would never so openly claim such a thing. </p><p>“It’s about ten years too late for that,” Marfa says, trying to keep her tone light. “Neither of us have a choice in that anymore.” </p><p>“Everything in my life is powered by gasoline and a match,” Anya tells her. </p><p>“You’re wonderful,” Marfa reminds her. She knows she can have an idealistic image of Anya, especially when her hatred and resentment have melted away, but she knows this is also a true statement. </p><p>“My parents wanted to run away,” Anya tells her. “That’s what was in the egg. They were going to quit my grandmother’s business and take us away and start a new life.” </p><p>Marfa suddenly felt a rush of respect she had never had before for Anya’s parents. </p><p>“What happened?” </p><p>Anya’s quiet for a moment and then, “Exactly what I had to. Guess I am my grandmother’s grandchild or whatever that saying would be.” </p><p>Oh. It’s better for her to not say the words out loud to her. </p><p>She just pulls Anya closer against her. Marfa kisses her cheek and whispers in her ear. “I’ll still follow you anywhere.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. epilogue: all of you, all of me (intertwined)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The sun is high and bright, the sand warm beneath Marfa’s toes. She didn’t think she was the type to run away, but after the dust had settled back home it was clear Anya couldn’t stay there and keep a clear mind. She was constantly torn between guilt, justification and haunted by the fate of her parents and the role her grandmother had in them. </p>
<p>She’d decided not to burden her sisters and brother with the knowledge of what really happened to their parents. Instead, wanted them to go to the lives they actually wanted to live. Olga surprised them all, divorcing her older husband and moving herself and the children across the country to California where she now dated some actor. Tatiana, always in love with her husband, stayed with him, giving up any pretense of a job and both living in retired bliss before her thirtieth birthday. Maria broke up with her married billionaire and was now the mistress to his wife instead. They spent all their time at the summer home in the Hamptons, while he worked in the city. Alexei dropped out of college. </p>
<p>Anya sold her shares of the company to Lily and Sophie, and washed her hands of as much as she could relating to her grandmother. She kept retreating into herself, and Marfa was concerned she’d lose her completely if they stayed in such a familiar setting. </p>
<p>The first time Marfa had seen light in Anya’s eyes was when she said she had quit her job, taken her portion of the heist money, bought a house with its own private beach on an island in the Pacific. </p>
<p>“You sure you want to be somewhere isolated with only me for a good twenty miles?” Anya had questioned. </p>
<p>“Don’t need anyone else,” Marfa insisted, before kissing her. </p>
<p>They’d left the very next day, not needing to pack much at all. </p>
<p>It’s running away, but it’s the only way to start anew sometimes. </p>
<p>Marfa hears the door to the house shut and looks over to see Anya padding over. Her feet are bare and she’s wearing a loose dress. Her hair is longer than she’s ever seen it, and it’s so light now from spending so much time in the sun. Her skin is sun kissed and littered with freckles. </p>
<p>Sometimes she can look like a completely different person, but no less than someone Marfa is completely in love with. </p>
<p>“You should dye your hair blonde,” Anya comments, and Marfa pulls her onto the lounger, to sit between her legs. “We could match.”</p>
<p>“Never been blonde before,” Marfa returns, her arms wrapping around Anya’s midsection, pulling her back to her as close as possible. </p>
<p>“You’d look hot,” Anya insists, settling her hands on Marfa’s knees. “You always do.” </p>
<p>She turns her head to capture Marfa’s lips in a kiss, her tongue licks her lips, eager for Marfa to open her mouth. </p>
<p>Anya pulls away, her blue eyes lighter and brighter than they ever were back home. “When are Polly and Dunya getting here?” </p>
<p>“Next weekend,”she reminds her. The three of them still weren’t on the best of terms, but Polly and Dunya couldn’t resist the pull of a beautiful beach wedding, even if it meant having Anya there. </p>
<p>She pulls down the strap of Anya’s dress, her mouth comes down to cover her shoulder. She tastes of coconut, suntan lotion and the sun. </p>
<p>Anya hums in response, “You’ve been out here forever.” </p>
<p>“It’s been an hour,” Marfa reminds her, sliding her hand under the top of Anya’s dress and finding her skin soft and breast bare underneath. Makes her wonder if Anya bothered putting on anything underneath her dress. “I love you.” </p>
<p>Anya stiffens at that, just like she has everytime Marfa has said it for the past six months since Marie’s death. She had told Marfa that she shouldn’t love Anya, and seems stuck in that. Even when they’ve run away together. </p>
<p>“Hey,” Marfa says softly, bringing her hand up to turn Anya’s head back to her. “I love you.” </p>
<p>She kisses her, soft and gentle. </p>
<p>“You’re wonderful,” she reminds her, and Anya turns around in her arms. “You’ve survived so much.” </p>
<p>“Not in the right ways,” Anya is quick to remind her. “And I ruin so much. You quit your job for me.” </p>
<p>“I quit my job because you were right when you told me I had to be bored out of my mind,” Marfa says. She has so much love in her heart for Anya, she doesn’t know how to make that absorb through Anya’s skin so she can feel it move through her. “And because I wanted to fulfill my fantasy of living alone on an island with you.” </p>
<p>Anya bites her lip, far more comfortable with physical expressions than being told of love. “What other fantasies do you have?” </p>
<p>“Kissing every freckle that’s formed on your body,” Marfa tells her, reaching over to tuck a strand of hair behind Anya’s ear. </p>
<p>Anya reaches down, pulling her dress over her head and throwing it in the sand, and proving Marfa was right in thinking Anya wasn’t wearing anything at all underneath it. </p>
<p>“”They’re everywhere,” Anya tells her, bending down to kiss her neck. “Can’t miss a single one.” </p>
<p>“I’ll be thorough,” Marfa promises, her hands on Anya’s hips. She flips them so Anya is sitting on the chair, and reaches down to recline the lounger down so it’s almost completely flat.</p>
<p>Anya’s hair is wavy and fanned out underneath her and she looks like a goddamn painting. </p>
<p>“You look like Venus,” Marfa tells her, intertwining one of her hands with Anya’s and moves herself to straddle her knees. </p>
<p>“Worship me,” Anya teases, breathlessly. </p>
<p>She already does. </p>
<p>Marfa squeezes her hand, and with her free hand brushes her thumb along Anya’s lower lip. </p>
<p>“Let me love you,” she says. </p>
<p>Anya stiffens again, her hand slipping out of hers and Marfa worries she’s going to bolt. </p>
<p>Finally she places her hands behind Marfa’s head and brings her down to her chest. </p>
<p>“Okay,” Anya breathes, finally breaking down that barrier she had built up. </p>
<p>It’s all the permission Marfa needs to start making good on her promise to kiss every freckle on her body. And then again, just in case she missed any. </p>
<p>Tangled up in their own world is a temporary salve, but it’s a good new beginning.</p>
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